


East Of Eden

by waitingfor_shiro (waitingfor_margo)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Keith, College AU, First Meeting, First Time, M/M, No Lube, Panic Attacks, Riding, Shiro thinks he's straight, Top Shiro, alcoholic Shiro, british Sheith, but I planned it like that, flat sharing, like very small hints, oh and it takes place in England, small hints at drug addict and prostitute Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitingfor_margo/pseuds/waitingfor_shiro
Summary: The song snippets in Keith's POV are from My Body Is A Cage by Arcade Fire https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhhZdune_5Qand those in Shiro's POV are from Blue Eyes by Cary Brothers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSdYgUtvenscompliment my writing trash on Tumblr @ http://no-way-no-gay.tumblr.com/ and my drawing trash @ https://cocoastainseverywhere.tumblr.com/





	

**Author's Note:**

> The song snippets in Keith's POV are from My Body Is A Cage by Arcade Fire https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nhhZdune_5Q  
> and those in Shiro's POV are from Blue Eyes by Cary Brothers https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zSdYgUtvens
> 
> compliment my writing trash on Tumblr @ http://no-way-no-gay.tumblr.com/ and my drawing trash @ https://cocoastainseverywhere.tumblr.com/

_I'm standing on a stage, of fear and self-doubt, it's a hollow play but they'll clap anyway._ His chest felt so tight Keith was sure it would burst at the slightest movement. As if his body tried to close up, to protect itself from the world outside. To protect his heart from the world outside. Though despite its reduced capacity, Keith felt so fucking empty. As if his inside wasn’t flesh and muscles tightening until all the air disappeared from his lungs, but a huge hall and he was the only one standing inside. Alone. Lonely. _Alonely._

*

_It was so dark. It was so cold. Keith’s footsteps echoed loudly as he ran through this giant prison, this palace only for himself and his fears. He was captured. Keith couldn’t stop running, didn’t want to, he needed to find someone, anyone. He wanted to shout, to scream but no sound left his mouth, whilst the noise of his feet touching the tiles on the floor was ringing in his ears. He couldn’t see walls blocking his way, he couldn’t see an end, he was lost in eternity. He stopped, panting. A frosty wind came up and trickled easily through Keith’s clothes, his skin, his bones, until it reached his very core, to tease him, to show him how weak he was, how easy it was to undo him. Low quality inside. Keith sank to his knees. His hands touched the cold tiles, his forehead following. ‘I give up, I give up…’_

*

 _I'm living in an age, that calls darkness light, though my language is dead, still the shapes fill my head._ The fear rose inside him, twirled, stretched. He felt as if he was about to explode. He was so awfully afraid. Panicked. Breathing. He needed to breathe. But it didn’t matter how wide he opened his mouth, it wasn’t enough air that flowed inside. Never enough. Like a fish ashore. Keith was fighting for his life and nobody realized. He wanted to go back. No. Not back there. But he sure as hell didn’t want to be here either. He felt as if he wasn’t even anywhere. Trapped in a space where nothing existed apart from screaming white light, a vibration under his feet and blank faces. _I'm living in an age whose name I don't know, though the fear keeps me moving, still my heart beats so slow._ Keith wanted to get out. He wanted to run and never stop running. He grabbed the armrests of his seat so that his knuckles turned white. He turned his head slightly and tried to see what lay behind the huge windows. On train rides he always focussed on the fading scenery outside but now it was so dark that the only thing he could see was his own pale face. _Just because you've forgotten, that don't mean you're forgiven._ **A waste. A disappointment. A…Mistake.** The harsh voice that had underlined the ‘m’ and spat out the rest of the word to show Keith how disgusting he was, was ringing in his ears, pushing open the gates through which now spilled everything Keith had tried to keep in. But he just couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to disengage himself from all those words. All those insults, assumptions, hurting phrases of disaffection. They poured out of Keith and ran down his cheeks, his chin, to weep into his collar. It wasn’t enough. Never enough. Keith began to sniff, then all the weight of what he felt, everything that had slept inside welled up and he sobbed, his shoulders quaking, his whole body shaking. He couldn’t bring himself to care that his tears drenched his face and clothes, that he was making the loudest noise in the whole wagon, that all those faces around him turned away at his sudden outburst of emotions. All he could care about was this stinging pain that left his body with the stream of salty water, for everyone to see. But this pain was endless, so with every drop containing a piece of it that ran down his face, there was even more left inside Keith. And that made it worse. _I'm living in an age that screams my name at night, but when I get to the doorway, there's no one in sight…_ Keith felt a light pressure on his shoulder. Fingertips resting there and willing him to turn his head to see who interrupted his crying. Keith gave in and set his eyes on the fingers of the person that stood there next to him and bothered about his state. He followed the line of their arm, clad in a dark pullover as it seemed, further up to a shoulder, a neck wrapped in a matching scarf, further up…and rested on grey eyes, so much warmth swirling in such a cold colour and filled with an expression Keith had missed for so long: sympathy. _You're standing next to me, my mind holds the key, set my spirit free…_

* 

_There was someone. Keith felt another heartbeat, a warmth drawing nearer. ‘I’m here’, he wanted to shout, but he was so tired of trying. He couldn’t stand up, lay coiled up on the floor, freezing. Keith had his eyes closed. Suddenly he saw light spreading out behind his eyelids. ‘I’m here’, he thought once again, a little smile playing on his lips, hardly visible._

*** 

There was one discipline Takashi Shirogane knew he was good in. No, not only good, but perfect. Listening. It had started in his childhood, when his sister had come running to him after the dog of the neighbours, a bull terrier, had chased her. She had been so afraid and Shiro had desperately wanted her to feel better. _Who'd have thought that you'd dream of a single tragic scene? I just want to sing a song with you, I just want to take it off of you._ He had given her hot chocolate and had sat beside her, asking her what had happened. And he had felt how his care had soothed her. From that moment on Shiro had asked her regularly how her day had been, being interested in everything that bothered her, that was important to her and quickly she realized that she could tell Shiro everything. She would come to him when she was upset or angry or sad, resting her head on his shoulder and crying over a lost teddy bear and later over a broken heart. And Shiro would enjoy the closeness, the trust she felt for him. And soon he wanted to feel more of this. _Cause Blue Eyes, you are all that I need, cause Blue Eyes, you're the sweet to my mean._ He started to listen to the problems of everyone who wanted to tell them. He asked the right questions, showed concern where others went by. _I can help you to stand, saved it up for this dance, tell me all the things you can._ He realized that girls were more and more interested in him. He was the first boy in his class kissing a girl and losing his virginity. But that didn’t make him more popular. Shiro kept listening, still looking for this connection he had felt with his sister and that he missed as soon as she had moved out. And oh, wasn’t it easier to think about the problems of others rather than his own? _Cause Blue Eyes, you're the secret I keep, cause Blue Eyes…_ And there he sat now, trying to concentrate on the book he was reading, but the ever returning thoughts kept chasing him, kept playing tag in his head. He closed it with a snap, willing those thoughts to disappear, to become invisible like the pages of the novel he put in his bag. Out of sight, out of mind. Shiro looked up and his eyes rested on a man apparently at the same age as himself. The man was crying. Two lines of water were silently running down his face. He looked so sad and it made him look like a little boy. Shiro’s heart stung. The man’s beautiful purple eyes filled with more tears, they followed the others down and dropped from his chin. More and more and he began to sob. Shiro couldn’t look away. Not like all the other people did. There was this incredible man, having the balls to cry in public, to show his emotions, not caring what others thought of him and nobody in this wagon realized it as what it was: courage. They behaved like he did something unseemly, almost disgusting and turned their heads away, trying to ignore him, as if in case they couldn’t see him, he wasn’t there. Out of sight, out of mind…Shiro gulped and stood up, stumbling slightly as he tried to walk while the train kept going. Stopping next to the man who was lost in his own world as it seemed and didn’t see Shiro standing so close, he stretched his arm out, his fingers trembling slightly and rested his palm on the shoulder of this fascinating man. Slowly he raised his head until he looked Shiro directly in the eyes. Shiro held the eye contact, thinking _don’t worry, I’m here_ , until he saw something in the man’s face he wanted to believe was hope. Shiro watched his face intently. Those sparkling purple eyes, lush lips, soft skin, no outstanding jaw. So young. But even if his appearance told otherwise, there was no doubt that he was a man, for he was more mature than everyone on this train. “Hey”, Shiro said. “What is wrong? Tell me.” _Cause Blue Eyes, you are destiny's scene, cause Blue Eyes, I just want to be the one…_

*** 

When you think about it, life isn’t more than a lot of things you don’t know and a lot of things that are right there but you’re just oblivious to and a lot of things that you know but that you’re sick of and then to make it more interesting there are a few things you choose to care about, that you hold tight, that you won’t want to miss in this swirl of insignificance, no matter what happens. So now Keith decided to be sick of all those staring people and oblivious to their thoughts and chose to care about himself, about talking – not whispering – about what was important right now. He was so fucking tired. Tired of the same endless days, endless painful thoughts and sadly successful attempts at hiding them. Keith would have hoped that the man before him, the only one reacting, was old and deaf, then he would have had an excuse for all but screaming his inner demons out of his lungs, his body, his soul, as he longed to do. All those passengers here, they deserved to hear that Keith was human, that he had problems and hurt feelings, they deserved to hear that he could show that and that he was alright with breaking this unuttered rule of society that implied that showing your weaknesses was weakness itself and being weak just wasn’t acceptable. Keith couldn’t have named all the feelings that rushed through his body in this moment, yet he managed to sound as calm as it is possible with remaining tears running down your cheeks: “You want to know what’s wrong? This world.” 

* 

“I’m afraid they’re not yet ready to send people to the mars, but if you don’t like it right here, you can get out anytime.” The man grinned down at him, pointing at the doors of the moving train. Keith snorted with laughter. That had been unexpected. Never had he assumed that this stranger would come up with a joke like that as an answer to his depressing statement. It was as unseemly as Keith’s sudden outburst of tears and laughter. It was perfectly fitting. “Sadly I have to hold on until we reach London”, he grinned back. “Oh, that’s my destination as well. Well, whose isn’t? Are you visiting someone or are you living there?” “The latter, I’m at uni.” “What are you studying?” “English. What about you? Are you studying there as well?” “I am indeed. Drama.” “We’re more into arts than useful things then, aren’t we?” “Yeah, apparently.” Both their grins widened visibly. 

* 

Keith tried to make his way through the crowded pub back to their table along with their pints. He had asked Shiro (“By the way, I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I?”) if they could go for a drink after arriving in London, what he had found a brilliant idea and so here they were now, sitting in a comparatively silent corner, their luggage under the table. “So…how about a toast to this cruel, cruel world?” Shiro was smiling just slightly, it was unambiguous that he meant it, he wasn’t taking the piss. Keith may got to know him just about two hours ago, but what he’d seen was an intelligent and sympathetic young man who took it with humour. It was very charming. “To the cruel, cruel world we’re living in”, Keith nodded, lifting his beer glass. They clinked glasses and drank a bit, yet kept looking at each other. Shiro spoke first again. “How should the world be in your opinion then? What would make it a better place?” “Well, I could say now that I wish to live in a world where peace goes without saying and everyone is nice to one another and lives happily till the end. But that would be a bit clichéd and endlessly cheesy, wouldn’t it? And obvious it is anyway. I’m more into details. I’m sure there is a better part of this world, where you can go when you need to drown in your dreams for a while, when you need to feel understood and right the way that you are. It’s a world of arts, of poetry and soothing words, of colours and beautiful melodies. And of love. The air smells of books and wine. No one can find you there if you don’t want them to, yet you won’t feel alone. That’s Arcadia. A paradisiacal haven. I’m afraid that sounds even cheesier.” Keith looked away and took a sip of his beer. Never had he spoken so freely about this. It had always been his secret dream and now, suddenly it had become a shared thought between him and a stranger. Keith didn’t know how to think about that. “It’s not at all cheesy. It’s a perfect world we’re talking of after all, isn’t it? I think it’s a very romantic idea and very beautiful. I love the smell of books and wine.” Shiro smiled at him. “I’d love to go there, when do you want to meet there?” Keith smiled weakly back at him. “Going to Arcadia isn’t that easy. The trains don’t go there very often. In fact almost never.” “Is it like taking the Hogwarts Express to go to Hogwarts? Possible only once a year? I’m tired of trains to be honest. Harry and Ron took a flying car to go to school once, so I’m sure there are plenty of ways to reach Arcadia. Seriously Keith, you just have to believe, keep your eyes open and be ready.” Keith just had to smile, given their metaphors and Shiro’s attempt at making him feel more optimistic. And yeah, Keith had to admit that he felt better now, that he felt somehow closer to Arcadia than he would have thought and he definitely felt closer to Shiro. 

*** 

Shiro felt at ease. Which was a huge improvement - he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that content and relaxed. Normally his muscles felt as if they were intertwined in a sailor’s knot. But right now he didn’t care. Listening to Keith, who told him enthralling stories, who talked about places like Albion and Arcadia, about dreams and ideas so imaginative yet totally comprehensible, was delightful. This man had visions to escape the grey and cloudy days, other than Shiro who had only his bottle of whisky. It was impressive. And Shiro felt as if Keith didn’t talk that often about things like those he told now. It made Shiro feel very thankful to be worth hearing those secrets he already believed in himself. It had been a few drinks and both of them felt slightly tipsy. Keith’s cheeks were rosy as he gesticulated wildly while talking. Shiro settled back and smiled or nodded at what he said. He felt comfortably tired. The barman pulled the bell to announce it was time for the last orders. Already? Keith and Shiro looked at each other in confusion. “D’you wanna drink one more?”, Shiro mumbled. “I’m not thirsty”, he shook his head no. “Leaving it is then”, Shiro smiled and they put their coats on. Keith almost forgot his carpetbag on the way out of the pub. Outside it was freezing and the two men stood there for a moment, watching their breaths circle visibly in front of their faces. “Um, time to go home then, I guess.” “Yeah.” Keith looked miserable. “What is it? We can meet anytime you want.” “I know, it’s just…no, it’s fine, really.” “Obviously it’s not.” Shiro furrowed his brows. “You can tell me.” “It would be more than you want to know, we’ve just met.” “How d’you know how much I want to know? Spit it out, I don’t want to stand here all night.” Keith looked uncomfortable. Reluctantly he spoke. “Well, it looks as if my until-now-flatmate decided his life would be more enjoyable without me around. It’s his flat, so it’s his right and I can’t blame him to be honest, I would probably have done the same.” Keith looked down at his feet. “He kicked you out of the flat and now you’ve got nowhere to go? Why didn’t you just say so? You’re staying at mine of course.” Shiro grabbed Keith’s arm to get him to come with him. “Wait, Shiro, no, that’s too much to ask for, really.” “You didn’t ask for it, I offered it to you.” “And I can’t accept that, you don’t know me that well, after all we just met.” “I know you enough to tell that you don’t really want to sleep on the streets tonight. Come on, just as long as it takes to find you another flat, okay?” “Right, but I’ll pay you.” “I really don’t mind”, Shiro laughed and they made their way to their from now on shared flat. 

* 

Shiro turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. On the way to Shiro’s accommodation Keith had felt his heart bounce in his chest as if it wanted to get out and hurry ahead to lead the way. He had felt, no, was still feeling like a little child that was shown a surprise at his birthday, squirrely walking next to his parents, impatiently looking on the way, as if trying to see his desired present already from afar. Though somehow this situation felt bold, abnormal, like he shouldn’t go with a stranger to live in a flat together. Like playing with matches as a child – strictly forbidden by adults. Yet, fact was, doing this was _not at all_ abnormal for Keith’s standard. Images of dark alleys, dust, fog and dirt, of darkness, blurry figures and greedy gazes crossed Pete’s mind. Hidden secrets, paths leading to happiness, playing hard to get. Yes, he knew what he shouldn’t do and yes, he did it all the same. Keith was endlessly curious and about to try everything once. At least. You couldn’t know if you didn’t try, right? How was he supposed to find the gateway to Arcadia if he just stuck to the rules? Who said they were right anyway? Keith made his own rules and they were simple, because there was only one to follow: Try and be happy. So it just wasn’t right to feel so wary, Keith wasn’t used to it, couldn’t remember having been feeling this ever. That was why he felt confusion along with the excitement as Shiro stepped back to let Keith go inside first. He was greeted by the living room as it seemed. At one end of the room stood a brown, worn out couch and a coffee table. In a wall unit a lot of books, records, CDs and DVDs were tightly compressed to fit in. It looked as if they were holding on to each other to not drop to the floor. A telly opposite the couch, a record player in the left back corner. Clothes, plates and cups scattered across the room. Keith smiled to himself. Home sweet home. He walked into the room only to trip over something unshaped that clanked as his feet collided with it. “Oh fuck, sorry about that, I should have taken them away ages ago.” Shiro picked up the plastic bag when a bottle rolled in front of Keith’s feet. “Jameson, eh?” “My weak spot.” Shiro seemed a bit shy at that and smiled just slightly as he hid under his white fringe. He took the empty bottle from Keith, put it into the bag and put it down next to the front door. He turned around again. “Well, make yourself at home then. Do you want a drink?” “Just a good night tea”, Keith smiled. He took off his coat and shoes whilst Shiro kept himself busy with kettle and tea bags. Keith strolled over to the wall unit and let his fingers glide over the backs of the books. He recognised a few author’s names, mostly classics of both prose and poetry. Some he read himself, some he didn’t. Was it because of not knowing or not liking them. This collection was so similar to his own and yet so different. Like people were. Only when he widened it he noticed the smile that was still on his lips. Keith glanced over to the man who came out of the kitchen with two steaming cups of tea. What kind of person was he? Keith would find out, but somehow he had a feeling he’d never know completely. 

*** 

As Shiro turned the key in the lock, he finally allowed himself to think about what exactly he was about to do. A bit late. He hadn’t hesitated a moment when Keith had told him that he was homeless. He just couldn’t help thinking of having a flatmate again. Of a human being waiting for him instead of an empty and dark flat. Of shared thoughts and talking until the dawn. But turning a stranger into his longed-for soulmate or rather expecting him to be exactly this wasn’t the norm. Or it shouldn’t be Shiro’s. He had just felt so content with himself as he and Keith had walked side by side in comfortable silence. Just like going for a walk with his family in autumn, Shiro thought. His parents walking hand in hand in front of him and his sister, both children collecting leaves. Shiro would peek at his mother and father, both smiling and looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. Those were some of Shiro’s most precise memories along with those of loud voices and shattered glass, of packed suitcases and finally a silence that had felt as if it was tearing Shiro’s eardrums apart. And of tears. A lot of tears, just not his own. So here he stood now, making tea and trying to figure out if that had been a good idea. Offering Keith his flat – not a drink, obviously. Trust was definitely nothing he let himself feel normally. Not towards acquaintances and surely not towards strangers. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Keith didn’t feel like a stranger. It felt as if Shiro would know him for years. There had been this connection. It sounded so odd, like something a character in a book would experience. But he had felt it, he was sure of that, like a bond between Keith and himself and Shiro wasn’t sure if he was able to cut it. Or just didn’t want to. He had found this man who had done what he couldn’t, had made him feel alive again, what Shiro himself had believed was impossible, because he hadn’t recognised how dead he had been. His own self at least. Now it was awake, just because he had talked to him. In a way nobody had ever talked to Shiro. About things nobody around him had ever thought about. Shiro carried the tea cups into the living room where Keith stood next to his books, looking over to him. Shiro relaxed immediately. And as he set the cups down on the coffee table he thought he had indeed this feeling of knowing this tall man standing in his flat, but didn’t know anything _about_ him. However, he would find out. 

* 

Shiro woke up having a dry throat and a full bladder. For a few minutes he tried to ignore his demanding body and go back to sleep, but it just didn’t obey. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 03:41. Ugh. Slowly he slid from beneath the covers and squinted his eyes at the moonlight burning into his room. Carefully he tiptoed out into the corridor, trying not to wake Keith up who had insisted on sleeping on the couch to “not cause more inconvenience”. As Shiro reached the bathroom door he heard something. A single sound like a sob. Then it was silent again. Yet Shiro felt concern taking over his body as he turned around and walked over to the door of the living room in which Keith should be fast asleep. He pressed the door open. There on the shabby sofa sat Keith, his face half covered by shadows, half illuminated by the light of the street lamps falling through the curtains. He had tucked up his legs, arms curled around them and his knees rested under his chin. His cheeks were wet, they glistened in the dark. Again a little sob escaped his lips. Shiro didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed good enough. Yeah, maybe nothing was the best he could say. He walked over to the huddled body. Keith looked up and sat up immediately, wiping his tears away. “Shiro, I…” “Sshh.” Shiro knelt down in front of him on the couch and without further ado leaned forward to embrace his thin body, Keith’s head resting on his shoulder and his arms snaking around Keith’s back to hold him tight against himself. Keith relaxed in the embrace, completely giving himself over, his body weight fully resting on Shiro, as if he was too exhausted to move ever again. Shiro held him still, moving his left hand in circles on his back, his right hand stroking Keith’s hair as he started sobbing more and more and soaked Shiro’s shirt with tears. He tried to speak, but was interrupted by some heavy sobs. “I, I can’t, I can’t-” “Sshh, you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything”, Shiro whispered soothingly. Keith tried again. “I can’t - sob - believe I - sob - met someone like - sob - you.” He drew his head back to look into Shiro’s eyes. So full of hurt, which was slightly covered by gratitude though. Shiro held him tighter. _So do I_ , he thought but kept silent. 

* 

Shiro was aware of something really hard pressing against his back. He grunted as he turned around. Why didn’t this feel like his mattress? _Maybe because this isn’t your mattress, dumbass_ , a voice in his head whispered. Possible. Wouldn’t be the first time he passed out on the floor after saying hello to his best friend a bit too often during the night. Another day that didn’t start with ‘positive thinking’. The one time his sister had forced him to go to this headshrinker…He opened his eyes. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see Keith’s purple orbs quickly being closed. Aha. “You awake?”, Shiro mumbled. Keith slowly opened his eyes again, smiling sheepishly at him from his place on the couch. “Guilty.” “Why didn’t you just show it?”, Shiro yawned, propping himself up on an elbow. Keith seemed a bit shy at Shiro’s question. Did he blush? “I, erm, didn’t want to be caught staring…” “Staring, at what”, Shiro asked amused, rubbing his aching back. Keith looked a bit odd. “Do you want some tea?”, he asked, wanting to distract himself from those intense eyes and rosy cheeks. “erm, yeah.” Shiro stood up and went over to his kitchen, turning the kettle on. He yelped when suddenly he felt a hand on his back. “Shit! You scared the shit out of me!” Keith held his hands up in defence. “Sorry! I didn’t want that, I just, erm…” Shiro looked at his new acquaintance that he couldn’t help felt he had known him for much longer. “What is it with you this morning? Is it because of last night? You know, you can talk to-“ “No, well yes, actually I wanted to thank you”, Keith cut him off. “You, you are an amazing person and I feel like meeting you yesterday kind of saved my life.” He chuckled nervously. “And you didn’t have to do that, deal with me and my shit but you still did and I can’t tell you how thankful I am.” “It’s okay, it is alright”, Shiro tried to stop Keith. He was feeling increasingly hotter under the collar of his t-shirt. “No, I mean it.” Keith stepped towards Shiro. He grabbed his arm. “Thank you.” “Yeah, um. I should thank you too.” It really was very, very hot now. God, Shiro felt weird. “Yeah, wetting your cushions with my tears really is something you should thank me for. I don’t do that for all those nice strangers out there”, he scoffed, looking bitter. “Hey.” Shiro heard concern in his own voice and he meant it. “That is nothing you should be mad at yourself for. That happens. And it is actually something about you that impressed me pretty much back on the train”, he confessed. “What? Crying?” Keith still sounded as if Shiro was making fun of him. Shiro wasn’t having any of it. “Yes”, he said confidently. “Showing your emotions. That’s more than most people are capable of. They let society tie them down. They don’t say anything because everyone says they shouldn’t. You do it your way. The healthy way.” “I’m anything but healthy”, Keith laughed. “But…do you really mean that?” He was biting his lip and it looked utterly adorable. _Delectable._ What? “Of course.” Keith’s gaze bored through Shiro and it made him almost shiver. “You really are a wonderful person, Takashi”, Keith breathed and the way he said _Takashi_ … Suddenly his face was much, much closer than just a few moments before…and still closer. Kiss. _Woah!_ Shiro really hadn’t expected this but he had to admit he didn’t mind that much either. Keith’s lips moved nicely against his and he let it happen. Soon there were hands gripping at his waist and he found his own hands drawn to Keith’s hair. Things sped up a bit. And he still couldn’t say that he minded that much. He was sure the temperature rose by a few degrees. Keith pressed himself closer to Shiro’s body and there Shiro could feel the outline of an erection. _Okay, still not expected._ Keith pulled on Shiro’s lips with his teeth, on his waist with his hands and on his sanity with his unique force. Shiro was sure now that he wouldn’t stop those developments. But it was okay, just another memory he would drown with a little help from Jamie. With a little force he pushed Keith back to lead them to his bedroom. He could feel Keith was desperate. “Just a moment”, Shiro panted as he tried to open the door while Keith was nipping on his neck. When they were inside, Keith swiftly sprung onto the bed, waiting for Shiro to join him. “I, I haven’t done this, you know. With, eh”, Shiro stammered but Keith cut him off. “I get it, just come over here, it’s okay.” Shiro walked over, watching Keith peal his shirt off. “Sit down”, he ordered. Soon they were back to kissing – safe territory – and wasn’t that nice. Shiro felt the heat rise inside him as well though, making him go faster, move against Keith, gripping at his naked skin, nipping at his lips. They both gasped when Shiro straddled Keith to lie on top of him, making their still clad cocks slide against each other. Frantically, Keith’s hands clawed at Shiro’s clothes, making him take off his shirt, then grabbing his zipper and yanking it down. They both sat up, making room to take their pants off. Now they sat in front of each other, naked. Somehow this felt awkward, as if they hadn’t been all over each other just seconds ago and more as if they had woken up like this, unsure how they had ended up in this situation. Keith didn’t let Shiro dwell on this thought for long though, quickly he robbed over to him and whispered: “I really want you inside me, you know.” Shiro blushed. “Don’t we need something for that? I don’t have, eh, you know anything besides condoms.” “It’s alright, we can make it without, I like a bit of pain”, Keith grinned devilishly at Shiro, then straddled his hips to sit in his lap. “I’ll go slow, okay?” And just with that he gripped the base of Shiro’s cock and slid down on it. “Fuuuuck!”, Shiro clenched his eyes shut at that tight-hot pleasure, consuming him so suddenly. He opened his eyes to find Keith’s face scrunched up in pain, having taken Shiro without any preparation. “Are, are you sure this, this is okay?”, Shiro panted. “Yes”, Keith hissed, tears trailing down his cheeks. Then he began to move. It was torture. Shiro wasn’t sure he could take it for long. He held onto Keith’s waist tightly, his pale skin turning even whiter under his bruising grip while the other man bounced up and down on his leaking cock. “Mmmhhh, yeah, that’s good”, Keith began to moan after a few minutes in which Shiro had thought he would lose it any second. “Mmmhh, can you, fuck, can you touch me?”, he whispered into Shiro’s ear, his body bent over and his face on Shiro’s shoulder. “Oh, oohhh”, Shiro let out first at Keith’s request and then at the increasing speed of his hips. “Of course”, he gasped as he let go of Keith’s waist with one hand, to go searching for his cock. It was very weird taking another man’s penis in hand. _Said the man while practising gay sex_ , the mocking voice inside his head whispered. It was true though, quite ironic how he hadn’t felt anything weird during this before now although he was buried balls deep into another man’s ass. Tentatively he began stroking Keith’s cock with his wrist, feeling the other man’s nose sniffling his hair. “God, that’s so good”, Shiro heard himself say, feeling himself on the verge of coming. “Shit”, he uttered and tried to pull out when he realised they hadn’t even used a condom. Keith held him firmly in place though. “It’s okay”, he panted. “It’s okay, I want it like that, god, fuck.” And with that he clenched his cheeks, and with his hips stuttering he came all over Shiro’s chest. “Aaaahhhhh”, Shiro let out as finally he reached his own climax, partly, and he wouldn’t admit that, because of Keith’s last words. 


End file.
